Page 99 of A King’s Obsession

“Yes. Don’t get distracted.” She gave me a warning look, and I knew better than to ask another question.

I shut my mouth.

“This secret worse than the other two,” she continued, her expression tightening. “She needed me, and I’m sitting there telling her to hear him out instead of telling her why.”

“Then let him tell her. Stay out that motherfucking business, bruh.” I rested my elbows on my knees, trying to get her to understand why I didn't want us caught in the middle. “I already told him to handle his shit. We don’t need to get in the middle.”

She turned toward me. “I’m already in the middle. She came to me.” Her voice was quieter now, but the point landed harder than all the yelling she'd done earlier.

Fair point. I rubbed my jaw, choosing my next words.

“I’m saying he needs to explain what he did himself. You shouldn’t have to answer for it.” I looked at her, hoping she'd at least agree with that much.

“Then he better explain it soon.” She leaned back against the couch, clearly done making excuses for either of us.

I nodded. Couldn’t argue with that either.

“Where she go?” I asked after a moment, remembering E was still waiting on me to call him back.

“She left, Malachi.” Ashlynn gave me a flat look.

“I know she left. Where?” I tried again, watching her expression close off.

Ashlynn gave me a look. “Nigga, I’m not telling you where the fuck she went. Why? So you can tell that nigga and he go looking for her? No.” She shook her head, pulling the blanket higher over her legs. “She needed somewhere to calm down and get her thoughts together.”

I let that sit. E wasn’t gonna like it, but asking her three more times wasn’t gonna get me an answer. It might get my ass put out, too.

I scooted closer and put my arm along the back of the couch. She watched me like she knew I was trying to change the temperature in the room.

I was. This nigga had my household fucked up, and my wife was already pregnant, irritable and mean enough to hurt my feelings before breakfast. I didn’t need his shit added to the daily rotation.

My hand settled over her stomach.

“What my baby been doing today?” I asked, rubbing my palm gently across her belly.

“What the fuck you think? Trying to bring my organs up through my mouth.” She looked at me like I'd asked the dumbest question imaginable.

I laughed, and she pointed at me.

“Keep laughing. Next time you can hold the bag.” She narrowed her eyes, but the corner of her mouth twitched.

“I’ll hold it.” I nodded, still smiling because I knew she wasn't joking.

She leaned back against the couch. “I barely got anything done for the salon. Every time I sit down to work, I gotta get back up and throw up.”

“You ain’t gotta keep stressing over that.” I continued rubbing her stomach, knowing she'd been pushing herself too hard.

“Malachi, the building not gonna put itself together.” She turned toward me, looking frustrated all over again.

“I know. That’s why I gave your designs to the contractor.” I kept my hand where it was, waiting for her to process what I'd just said.

Her head turned.

“You did what?” She sat up, her eyes widening.

“Bought the building already. You had the layout saved, the stations picked out, all that shit. I sent it over.” I nodded toward her laptop, knowing she was about to check every detail. “He’s getting the schedule together, and they start the build-out in a couple weeks.”

She sat up, reaching for her laptop. “Which designs?” Her fingers were already moving toward the keyboard.